Krieger
by LadyTemeraire
Summary: Based on the concept of the Nation-tans having animal familiars/companions. This one focuses mostly on Germany, with appearances from Axis and Allies. And Prussia. Overall rating PG-13, for angst!history.
1. One: Mein Schatten

A/N: This particular chapter is a prologue of sorts; it focuses mostly on Germany's early history and the period just before WWII.

Disclaimer: Not mine, too bad; not mine, so sad.

***

Krieger

Part One: Mein Schatten

As far back as Ludwig could remember, Gilbert had always had that eagle.

His memory wasn't perfect, he would be the first to admit; past a certain point there was just a vast black emptiness. But in all the other parts bright and clear, that bird was always present.

He finally worked up the courage to ask his older brother about it. "Gilbert," he said quietly, tugging on the cuff of his jacket, "_was ist das_?"

"Hmm?" The Prussian glanced down and saw the little blond pointing at his eagle. "Oh, that's Helden. Means 'valiant'. Good name, eh?"

"But... what is he? He's been around for so long, and he's too big to be a normal eagle."

Gilbert scratched his head. "Ah... how do I explain this? Y'know how you and I aren't human, how we represent our people?" When Ludwig nodded, he continued, "Well, he's kinda like that. Only he's our pride, our nationalism, our..." His voice trailed off. "I'm explaining this poorly, aren't I."

"A little," Ludwig admitted, petting the bird's wing carefully. Helden regarded him with baleful golden eyes but permitted the touch. "Will I ever have one?"

"Dunno," Gilbert shrugged. "He just showed up one day. Maybe if you keep growing and become a strong nation, you'll get your own."

Ludwig set his young jaw firmly. "I will. I'll work my hardest, _Preu__ß__en_. You'll see."

***

Years later - many long years later - Ludwig woke in the morning with disconcerting feeling that something had shifted. He unfolded his long, gangly-awkward teenaged self out of bed, blearily rubbing at his eyes -

- and almost tripped over the bundle of fur curled beside his bed.

Said bundle of fur revealed itself to be a shepherd pup that, once it noticed Ludwig, was wagging its tail so hard its whole body was shaking. Ludwig scooped it against his chest despite its wriggling and went off to find his brother. "Gilbert," he asked, "not that I'm not grateful, but what on earth prompted you you to get me a dog?"

The albino arched one silvery eyebrow. "I didn't." Then he saw the pup, and the second eyebrow jumped next to the first. "Oh."

Ludwig flopped into a chair, setting the dog on his lap. "So how did you get into the house?" he murmured, scratching behind one floppy ear. "And why?"

_Mine._

His blue eyes shot over to Gilbert. "What did - "

_Mine._

Ludwig glanced down at the dog, meeting eyes a little too intelligent for even a shepherd. "...Oh," he said quietly, understanding. Now he could comprehend that feeling - the sense of belonging, of being more than just himself... of being a nation.

The dog's ears perked up. _Mine. Happy?_

"Yeah," he murmured, and the dog's tail started wagging again. "Yeah, I am."

_Happy. Mine. Happy._

Then it peed on his leg.

*****

"Heel," Ludwig ordered, and his shepherd came trotting back to his side.

_Krieger_, he'd named the dog - warrior. It was a strong name, a good name, one that suited such an animal. And they'd both been warriors, born and bred, with a proud heritage and a noble bearing.

Until twenty years ago, that is, when the whole world had gotten dragged into war, with the blame falling squarely on Ludwig's shoulders. Versailles had shamed his people, leaving Krieger creeping around with his tail between his legs; the depression had weakened Ludwig to a pale shadow of his soldierly form.

But now... Now he had a new boss, hard at work stitching up the tattered German pride. Krieger's ears were perked and his eyes bright, and Ludwig no longer hunched his shoulders as though expecting a blow. The economy was starting to recover as well, which certainly helped things.

Krieger, taller at the shoulder than a normal canine, brushed against Ludwig's leg. _Happy?_

"Getting there," the German murmured. He'd ceased to be amazed by his ability to pick up on the dog's emotions, or try to explain it, long ago, and had learned to ignore the odd looks he got from people when he talked back. "I'm... happier than I have been in a while. The alliance with Japan is going well, and Italy - "

"_Doitsu!_"

"- is also happy," he finished as he pried himself out of the Italian's hug. "Feliciano, what have I told you about that kind of behavior?"

"Ve~ I'm happy to see Doitsu! Oh, and Krieger too!" He dropped to his knees to pet Krieger, despite Ludwig's twitching eyebrow. The fool dog's tail was going so fast it was a deadly weapon in its own right. _Dumkopf_.

"Doitsu, Doitsu, do you and Krieger want to get lunch with me?" Krieger's ears pricked at _lunch_ and Ludwig thought traitor.

"We can't, Feliciano," Ludwig shook his head. "I have a meeting with my new boss in just a little bit. Maybe tomorrow."

"Okay~! Ve, I'll be sure to bring Felicità with me!" With a final pat, the Italian floated off down the street.

Krieger watched him go, tail still wagging. _Happy. Beautiful._

"Stop that nonsense," Ludwig growled, cheeks pinkening.

_Beautiful_. Krieger glanced up at Ludwig. _Happy. Joy. Love._

The pale tint deepened to a full blush. "D-don't be ridiculous," he sputtered. "I only put up with him for your sake, and you just like him because he gives you meatballs and lets you play with his wolf."

_Love,_ the dog insisted, nudging at his hand.

Ludwig gave up and scratched behind velvet ears. "Whatever. I don't have time for such nonsense. Let's go, or we'll be late."

_~Fin~_

_***_

NOTES

~Prussia and Germany's official symbol is the black eagle.

~This was inspired partly by a fantastic fill on the kink meme labeled "On Learning How to Fly", as well as a novel I recently read. The main character, a woman on a K-9 search and rescue team, had a pseudo-psychic connection with her dog; she could pick up emotions and general feelings, but they didn't have full conversations (like, say, the dragonriders from the Pern series). That's what I was going for in this one.

~"Mein Schatten" = "my shadow".

~My mom grew up with big dogs (shepherd mixes, purebred Husky), and my dog is a German Shepherd/Akita mix. A lot of my observations on dogs come from her stories and my own experiences.

~Anyone who's ever been in range of the tail of a very happy medium-to-large dog knows those things qualify as a WMD in their own right.

~Thanks to my beta CJBlackwing for all her help and advice.

~Reviews and concrit make a happy authoress! Next part will be up in a few days. Thanks for reading!


	2. Two: Mein Begleiter

A/N: this chapter focuses mostly on WWII and the immediate aftermath. I'm really trying not to offend people, so please take what I say with a grain of salt.

***

Krieger

Part Two: Mein Begleiter

That evening, Ludwig sat quietly in his den long after his meeting had ended, chin resting on his steepled hands. His new boss had taken the introduction to his Nation rather well - better than some had. Some of his ideas were... odd... but he seemed to have the country's best interests in mind.

He glanced down at Krieger, who was lounging on the rug in front of the fire. "What do you think of him?"

Brown eyes shifted up to him, melancholy. _Hate._

Ludwig actually gaped at him, blinking in surprise. "You can't hate him. He's our boss now."

Krieger sneezed, his way of saying no. _Hate. Anger. Sad. Hurt._

"What, you're picking that up from Adolph?" Ludwig crouched next to the canine, running a hand over the black saddle markings. "Well, his pride was very hurt by Austria, and by that treaty, and his imprisonment. I cannot blame him for being angry."

The sable-and-black tail thumped against the carpet. _Worried. Sad._

"Hush," the German soothed, "hush. It'll be alright, Krieger. You'll see."

Krieger sighed and tucked his nose into his belly.

***

Half a decade, and Ludwig wondered if Krieger was right to worry.

War was ravaging Europe again, and there was no one to hide behind this time. And right then, Ludwig was stuck smack in the middle of everyone, trying to fight on two fronts at once.

He was currently calf-deep in snow, facing down a glacially furious Russia who did _not_ appreciate being invaded, thank you very kindly. The whole thing would have been much easier if that blasted general hadn't interfered, again. He was still there, somewhere, lurking behind the Russian giant.

Krieger, ever-present at Ludwig's side, growled as Ivan strode forward. He lunged for the human, and suddenly the Russian's bear materialized from nowhere in his path. It growled too, rearing up and up on its hind legs - gods, it was _huge_ - lifting its paw to strike -

- and then _roaring_ in agony as Helden came screaming out of the sky to dive-bomb its head.

Krieger crouched low and sprang for the bear's throat, toppling the three of them over in a flurry of fur and feathers. Gilbert appeared at Ludwig's elbow, flashing him a feral grin, _we-can-take-him_ fire in his garnet eyes. The two brothers darted forward, knives ringing as they struck Ivan's pipe simultaneously.

The Russian would not, would _not_ give up, and fought with a tenacity that awed Ludwig. He saw, from the corner of his eye, the bear on its back and Krieger savaging its belly, going for the soft flesh. His heart thrilled to the sight, triumph surging in his soul -

- until one massive paw smacked the canine aside, sending him sprawling in the snow with a yelp and a ripple of _Pain_ through their connection.

Ludwig's heart skipped several agonizing beats until he saw Krieger get up, bounding forward to spring snarling at the mammal three times his size. The German narrowly avoided the curved end of the pipe, hearing the metal whiz past his skull, and slashed at Ivan in response. The blade missed flesh but sliced the ivory fabric of his scarf; violet eyes sharpened and narrowed at him.

The bear shook Krieger loose, and as the dog leapt again, its paw slammed into him in midair. That time, there were crimson drops on the snow, and Krieger was limping from a deep gash in his left hind leg.

A rifle report cracked in the frosty air, and Ludwig was so cold he barely registered the pain of being hit. He saw General Winter taking aim again and made a mad dash for his dog, scooping Krieger up in his arms. Whistling for Helden, Gilbert returned just enough fire to cover them while following Ludwig through the snow. They could just hear, over the howling wind, Russia's hysterical laughter and triumphant cry of "And _stay_ out!"

Ludwig gritted his teeth against the pain and kept going, pretending he could not hear the heavy, lumbering gait of the bear following in their tracks.

Far, far too soon, he found himself trapped in his own capital, wincing at every painful beat of his heart. He faced down Ivan and his bear, this time on his own turf, and set his jaw despite the feeling of hopelessness.

The impact of the pipe surprised more than pained him, so weary and weak was he. The second blow _really_ hurt; at the third, he felt at least one rib give way. He heard, somewhere behind him, Italy screaming _Felicità_ as the she-wolf went down under lion's fangs and eagle's talons, heard Krieger snarling at the end of the choke-chain France had around his neck.

Then the Russian bear loomed before him, and he had no time to think. He fired as it reared up - once, twice - and then that tire-sized paw all but flattened him. He struggled to his knees; the bear hit him again, and again, until he stayed down on the cold cobblestones, bleeding and broken and utterly spent.

Dimly, he heard Krieger howling as the darkness closed around him.

***

Ludwig woke in a hospital bed, wrapped in what felt like three pounds of bandages with a cast on his left arm. His chest hurt far too much to be just broken ribs. The room was grey and smelled of medicine and blood; he shut his eyes as though he could close out the ashy taste of death clinging to the sheets.

The ashes locked in his throat, making him choke and cough helplessly. Strong hands supported him, raised him off the pillows, lifted a glass of water to his lips. "Drink," a familiar voice ordered, and the soldier in Ludwig obeyed out of habit.

He blinked muzzily, managing to focus on three faces: England, America, and... some kid that looked like America, but with a little bit of France thrown in. Frowning, he propped himself up on his elbows. "Where...?"

"One of your hospitals," Arthur explained. "We've got a wing blocked off for the Nations who are a bit... worse off. Japan is next door; he's not doing very well."

Alfred looked guilty, and Ludwig thought better of asking for details on that situation. "And... what about me?" he asked hesitantly, visions of massive debt looming over him again.

Not-America adjusted his glasses. "You have heavy scarring on your lungs, probably from the various - ah, camps, scattered across your territory, as well as several broken ribs and a fractured radius from your lesson in bear-wrestling." The humor fell a bit flat, and he shifted uncomfortably. "Um. Alfred has his Marshall Plan, and that-that'll be implemented once you're a little better."

" 'S more than he deserves," the American mutteed.

"Alfred..."

"Don't _defend_ him, Mattie," he spat. "You weren't _there_. You didn't see Feliks when my boys pulled him out of that hellhole. He _cried_ when I wrapped him in a blanket, because it hurt to be touched." He focused brilliant cobalt eyes on Ludwig. "You'd better hope and pray the judges feel merciful during the trials for war crimes."

"Enough of that."

Four gazes shifted to the doorway, where Francis leaned against the jamb. He was thin and pale, as haggard as Ludwig was sure he looked himself, but a little of the old glint, had returned to his eyes.

Alfred set his jaw. "Francis, you of all people should know - "

"That does not give you or me the right to harangue an injured man, _mon cher_," the Frenchman pointed out. He spoke to all of them, but his eyes were focused on Ludwig. "After all, holding grudges is what got us here in the first place."

Ludwig lowered his eyes, accepting the silent reprimand and knowing that it, too, was more and less than what he deserved.

Francis let the silence hang for a few moments before toeing the door open. "All right, out. Let the man rest." The three blonds filed out obediently, leaving Ludwig and Francis alone. The Frenchman shot Ludwig a conspiratorial, long-suffering _see-what-I-have-to-deal-with_ smile before pushing himself upright. "By the way," he added, "you have a visitor. Try not to make too much noise~"

A familiar brown head peeked through the door, errant curl bobbing by his face. And, just behind the Italian's boots, Krieger's ears perked at the sight of his companion. Francis ruffled Italy's hair as he left, winking at Ludwig, and that was enough permission for Feliciano.

Krieger was still hurt and had to be lifted to the bed, but the motor in his tail was in fine form. As was his tongue, judging by the amount of attention he was giving Ludwig's face. "Enough of that, you," Ludwig said good-naturedly. "Down."

The canine flopped next to his master, tail _thump-thump-thumping_ the bed. _Happy. Mine. Alive. Happy. Happy._

Feliciano curled next to his friend, carefully, content to snuggle and chatter softly about pasta and pretty girls and how Felicità had chewed through his dress socks. Ludwig smiled tolerantly, threading his fingers through ticked fur, and let himself float on the brief feeling of security.

_~Fin~_

_***_

NOTES

~Russia's symbol is the Russian bear. Italy's is the Italian wolf (pretty animals).

~"Mein Begleiter" = "my companion".

~The Treaty of Versailles was considered a farce and a humiliation by the Germans (and rightly so). Due in large part to this, France really got nailed hard in WWII.

~Even though the Jews are the ones mostly associated with the Holocaust, other ethnic groups were affected as well - Poles, Gypsies (Roma), Slavs, even Germans. I really strongly recommend visiting the Holocaust Museum in Washington DC at least once. It is very... eye-opening and touching.

~Krieger's two attacks on the bear represent the Battle of Moscow and the Battle of Stalingrad, major events in Operation Barbarossa. Moscow was a big deal because it was the first time the Russians had successfully defended their capital (the Germans took about eight months to get there. The Russian army showed up in mid-November and had completely driven the Germans out by January). Stalingrad was the bloodiest battle in history at that point; the Russians held on even though at one point the Germans controlled 90% of the city. It also marked the turning point of the war on the Eastern Front; after that, it was more of the Russians pursuing the Germans rather than the other way around.

~Next part up in a few days, when school isn't kicking my butt quite so badly. Reviews make a happy authoress~ Thanks for reading!


	3. Three: Mein Freund

A/N: this chapter focuses on the aftermath of WWII and the Cold War, ending in something close to present-day. A big thank-you to everyone who's stuck wiith this story so far.

***

Krieger

Part 3: Mein Freund

Feliciano continued to visit him every so often, most usually bringing lasagna or fresh-baked bread or rich, creamy chocolate. They would sit outside and eat, watching Krieger and Felicità chase each other in endless circles around the yard. The Italian, for all his cluelessness, kept things light and away from serious topics, but Ludwig could not shake the feeling that something was off.

That evening, Feliciano tucked him back into bed and pecked his forehead before leaving. Krieger, sprawled across Ludwig's legs, watched him go as his tail thumped. _Beautiful._

Ludwig struggled to keep his rosy cheeks under control. "Knock it off," he grumbled wearily.

Krieger sighed, resting his head on his forepaws. _Beautiful. Love._

"What?" Germany teased. "Don't tell me you're in love with that wolf of his." Krieger sneezed indignantly, and Ludwig chuckled at him. "Then why do you keep going on about such things whenever Italy is around?"

Krieger shot him a pointed look. _Love._

Ludwig closed his eyes to avoid answering, conflicted by the odd feelings paining his chest.

He knew the world had changed, for good or for ill. He could hear Japan crying weakly through the wall at night, dropped his gaze to endure the dirty looks Poland shot him when passing his door, buckled down to do his part in the Marshall Plan -

But nothing, _nothing_ could have prepared him for coming home to an empty house.

Ludwig set his suitcase down abruptly, doorjamb creaking under his grasp as he fought a spinning head. Gilbert was _gone_. His older brother, the shadow at his shoulder, was no longer there. Even Helden's perch had vanished.

Krieger could not seem to understand the disappearance, and kept trotting from room to room to the door and back, fragments of _confused-worried-lost?_ floating back to Ludwig. He squeezed his blue eyes shut, not even attempting to explain it to his dog, because he couldn't explain it to himself.

"It was Ivan's demand," Alfred explained behind him. "He said if we had a hold on Germany, why couldn't he? He - it's only Gilbert's territory, and half of Berlin."

So that was it, then. The Baltics, Poland, his own sisters - all that wasn't enough for the Slavic giant. He had to take part of Ludwig as well. "And you could not have refused him?"

"What, after all that? We couldn't take on Russia as well. We had to give him _something_."

Ludwig rested his forehead on his knuckles. _Only half..._ "You are America, yes? The land of equality and freedom, with liberty and justice for all?"

"Well... yeah."

He whirled on the American, voice taught and eyes fragmented. _"Then why did you let Ivan take my brother away from me?"_

Alfred shuffled uncomfortably, and Ludwig turned numbly to unpacking. The pain in his chest made sense, finally. After all, half of his heart was missing.

***

The first year, Ludwig quietly decided not to celebrate Christmas. Feliciano was dumbfounded, insisting that Christmas was too important to be skipped. Ludwig managed to convince him that he was just busy with the Marshall Plan, when in truth he had no desire to pretend to celebrate without his family there to decorate and share the season.

That was why, when he came home from work one day, he nearly dropped his groceries at the sight of Feliciano putting candles on a tree that had somehow materialized in his living room.

"Italy," he managed to breathe, "what-what are you doing? Why are you here?"

Feliciano turned around, the lit match still flickering in his hand. "Ve~ Ludwig is too busy to decorate, so I came to do it for him!" Krieger, the little traitor, thumped his tail in agreement from where he was curled with Felicità at the hearth. "It's no fun to spend Christmas by yourself. You should be with the people you care about."

Ludwig crossed the room in three steps and buried his face in the crook of Feliciano's neck. The Italian gave a soft _ve~_ as he returned the hug, smiling peacefully (but with the foresight to blow out the wick). Screwing his eyes shut against an unexpected stinging, the German pulled him closer, trying to deal with how the world was shifting and whirling around them.

***

Years passed.

The ache in Ludwig's chest never fully eased. He passed it off to his bosses and others as ribs that hadn't set right, rather than the truth of a hole in his heart. It was worse certain times than others, though the pain slackened after the Wall went up.

Even if the war had ended, none of the world had been untouched. Japan learned to walk again, though rain made his knees ache and he couldn't move to sit _seiza_ as easily. It was strange, not seeing half of Europe in their seats at the United Nations, but the awkwardness eventually passed.

Italy continued to visit, splitting his time fairly evenly between Ludwig's house and his own. Having been separated from a brother himself, he did not try to convince Ludwig that the pain would disappear. But he did what he could to ease it, whether it was cooking or cleaning or holding Ludwig as he shuddered with nightmares.

Krieger and Felicità surprised them one year with a litter of five puppies, sunlit sable and twilight gray and floppy velvet ears, which insisted on following their sire everywhere he went. Feliciano was enamored; Ludwig was amused; Krieger was thoroughly disgusted. _Annoying_, he complained to Ludwig one night. _Small. Everywhere. Messy._

"You weren't always the charmer you are now," the German pointed out. "And puppies grow, eventually." Krieger huffed in exasperation, even as one of the puppies tripped over his forelimb with a small yelp and apologetic lick.

The puppies eventually went off to homes with other Nations. Feliciano was sad, but he made up for it by promising to visit often with homemade treats - much to the dismay of the new pet owners.

***

Then, one day, Ludwig arose again feeling odd. It took a moment for him to understand why, but he finally got it:

His chest didn't hurt.

Shivering with the feeling of being more whole than he had in _decades_, Ludwig made his way with Krieger at heel to the Wall. It was already halfway destroyed, with his citizens going at it full-bore with sledgehammers and anything else they could get their hands on. He paced the edge of it with Krieger by his side, eyes bright and blood pounding in his ears, eyes wary and watching for silvery-white hair.

Suddenly, Krieger wheeled and bounded up and over a low section of rubble, barking louder than he had in a long time. Ludwig whistled sharply, but the dog kept going, and he was forced to follow. He finally made it over, hearing Krieger's excited barking and feeling _happy-happy-happy_ so powerful it nearly knocked him to his knees.

There, standing to one side with a tattered red scarf at his feet and Krieger rearing up to lick his face, was Gilbert.

Ludwig's heart just about stopped entirely.

The Prussian noticed him then, and favored him with an absolutely blinding smile. It took all of two seconds for Ludwig to reach him and yank him into a bone-crushing hug, Gilbert's laughter ringing in his ears, and Krieger prancing about their legs. Gilbert pulled back then, cradling Ludwig's face. "Miss me, West?" he teased, ruby-red eyes dancing.

"What the hell do you think?" Ludwig growled, blinking fiercely.

Gilbert laughed again, ringing sound, wild and free as the eagle that swooped to his shoulder. Helden's wings were a bit tattered and rumpled, and there was gray showing around his crown, but his golden eyes were still fierce and proud. Ludwig took his brother's arm, called Krieger to heel, and led Gilbert past the throngs of reuniting families and lovers towards home.

Later that night, Ludwig lounged on the couch with Feliciano curled against him and Gilbert zonked out entirely on the floor. "Ve~ Feliciano said sleepily, "what is Ludwig thinking about?"

"Family," Ludwig murmured, "and being whole." He hesitated a moment before quietly adding, "And love."

Feliciano twisted to blink at him, before smiling and snuggling against his chest.

_Happy_, Krieger said, head pillowed on Felicità's rump. His tail thumped the hardwood contentedly.

_Happy_.

~_Fin~_

_***_

NOTES

~"Mein Freund = "My friend"

~Christmas trees are actually a Germanic tradition, as is putting candles in the boughs. (I know they would have electricity. Candles are a bit more nostalgic. Hush.)

~When mum was growing up, Mischka (her purebred Husky) had pups with a feral half-wolf. The pups, which mum's family raised and eventually gave away, insisted on following their papa everywhere. Mischka was Decidedly Not Amused.

~The Berlin Wall was officially demolished in 1990, with the formal reunification of Germany on October 3. The same year, incidentally, that Lithuania declared independence from the USSR.

~I know some people have a headcanon of capitals or states having their own -tans. In my headcanon, a country's capital is their heart; hence all the comments about Germany's chest hurting.

~Big thanks to my beta CJBlackwing for putting up with (and sometimes laughing at) me, and to everyone who's reviewed so faithfully. See you soon!

P.S. Would people be interested in seeing more stories along this vein?


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